


Three words, eight letters

by BarricadeKitten (Dominatrix)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Also Grantaire is precious and needs to be protected, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And hints at smut, Enjolras is a sweetheart for once, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gosh they are disgustingly adorable together, Love Confessions, M/M, This is so fluffy I'm gonna die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 18:04:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4147578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dominatrix/pseuds/BarricadeKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is naked. Grantaire is in dire need of coffee and a cigarette. The three important words are articulated. And nothing hurts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three words, eight letters

**Author's Note:**

> Wow usually I'm really proud of my titles but today my head was just empty. So I'm sorry for that one. Feel free to scold me for it.  
> By the way I just watched "Girl walks into a bar" because Aaron is in it and gosh is he adorable and hot at the same time. Damn that man.  
> If you wanna shoot me a line on shut-up-marius.tumblr.com, I'd be ridiculously happy. Seriously.
> 
> Love, Liz x

Grantaire barely stirs when Enjolras climbs back into bed. It's their usual Tuesday routine: Enjolras – lunatic that he is – has a seminar on French politics during the 19th century in the early morning, whereas Grantaire, because he is a good student, starts his day at 3 p.m.

However, today Enjolras doesn't just curl himself up against Grantaire and succumbs to sleep once more. Today he huffs and throws himself from one side to the other, until Grantaire opens his eyes again and sighs dramatically.

“You won. What is it?” Enjolras doesn't say a thing about the tone of Grantaire's voice, doesn't even raise a brow, which is a first, he just groans and sits up, sheets sliding down his bare torso and pooling in his lap. (Grantaire thanks every deity he doesn't believe in for making Enjolras decide to sleep in the nude. Seriously. Sometimes, it's the best part of his day.)

“Ugh. Today this new professor introduced himself because Madame Arago went on maternity leave, I think I told you before. Anyway, he wants us to do a presentation on ourselves, like what moves us and what we love and it's only supposed to be personal stuff. Apparently he needs to know things like our favourite colour to work with us properly. He's wasting valuable time on trivialities, when he could do something else, like doing actual teaching. I mean...Why.”

He draws out the last word and buries his hands in his hair with a pained noise. R just rolls his eyes and stretches his arms over his head with a yawn. Leave it to his boyfriend to be overly dramatic about stuff like that and on the other hand look a dozen police officers in the eye like he could finish them all at one blow. (Knowing Enjolras, he probably could. His fury knows no limits, Grantaire's an expert on that.)

Enjolras just looks down on him, one eyebrow raised in his unique _I could use some help here, R, get off your ass and do something useful_ , and this is something Grantaire can work with.

„Okay. Let's see. Your name is Julien Enjolras, your favourite colour is red, obviously. If someone wakes you up before nine on weekends they might as well go into exile by choice; your wrath would be much worse. You love sushi, planning protests and studying far too much until you crash at your desk with your face in a book.“

Enjolras smiles, nodding. „And...“

„And caffeine. Loads of that, with more sugar than a sane human being would dare consume in a year.“ The smile has turned into a full grin, and Grantaire doesn't even mind being awake at that hour, not when Enjolras looks at him like this.

„And...“ Okay, this is harder than he imagined. He can't function without coffee or a smoke, and Enjolras knows that. „Erm. Patria?“

Not many people know that Enjolras loves Ferre's moody cat to pieces, but he does, always cooing at her when he thinks no one's looking. Enjolras looks pleased, but there are tiny wrinkles on his forehead, like Grantaire is missing the obvious.

„Well done. But you forget the most important thing I love.“

Okay nope, he can't do it. It's too early. „And that would be?“

Enjolras slides a hand over Grantaire's and laces their fingers together, squeezing softly.

„You. I love you.“

Grantaire's face splits in a massive grin, but he composes himself back to a expression of neutral curiosity, the corners of his mouth still curled upwards.

„Do you now?“ Enjolras can't stop the fond chuckle bubbling out of him at how R raises his brow in mock interest while he says it, with the poshest accent he can manage.

„Indeed I do. Terribly so“ he sighs, a hand on his heart, sinking back into the pillows and blinking at the ceiling before Grantaire comes into view again, leaning over him on his elbows, their faces only inches apart.

„So you love me. Whatever will I do.“ His voice is both sarcastic and unbelievably fond, and Enjolras can't resist the urge to wrap his arms around his boyfriend's neck and pull him down.

„You are such a doofus“ he mumbles against Grantaire's ear, mouthing down his neck and then biting down at his pulse point. Grantaire pushes himself off of him with a laugh.

„Ouch! Alright alright, no need to be physical. Come over here, you massive sap.“ He spreads his arms out in invitation and Enjolras follows eagerly, sliding his hands over Grantaire's body in a not quite innocent manner before he curls against the other man and looks up at him, mirroring his gentle smile.

„Might as well make it as cringe-worthy as possible. I. Love. You.“ R pronounces every word with a soft kiss to Enjolras' face; his hairline, his right cheekbone and then the tip of his nose.

Enjolras hums, content. „Sounds good.“

„Yea?“ Grantaire whispers against his skin, softly carding his fingers through Enjolras' uncontrollable golden curls. „That's awesome, cause it feels good too.“

He feels Enjolras burrowing more tightly against him, and as much as he loves it, he doesn't quite love Enjolras when he's angsting about being close to a deadline.

“What about your assignment?” Enjolras doesn't stiffen the way he expects to, doesn't jump up and run to his desk immediately; he presses a lazy, open-mouthed kiss against Grantaire's collar bone before he speaks again.

“Screw it, I'll improvise. When I get out of ideas, I'll just start waxing lyrical about my amazing boyfriend. That should do the trick.” Grantaire squirms when Enjolras starts sucking on the fading hickeys from a few days ago, apparently setting his mind to making them bloom again. Not that Grantaire minds. At all.

“You seem pretty chill for, you, know, you. Is that professor having a healthy influence on your perfectionism?”

Enjolras grumbles against R's neck, breath hot on his skin. “D'you wanna go on talk about my professor or would you rather have some cuddly sex right now?” Grantaire almost chokes on his next words because he tries to answer so fast.

“Oh, I'll definitely go with the sex.” Enjolras' smile is nothing short of wicked when he climbs on top of Grantaire and bows down to catch him in a filthy kiss.

“Thought so.”


End file.
